


Steeping

by rexnychus



Category: Alice (2009)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 21:58:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexnychus/pseuds/rexnychus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That is to say, Wonderland doesn’t exactly have an atmosphere that’s conducive to romance.  The whole place is warring against itself and Hatter is so busy playing both sides, walking that tight rope of not-quite-but-almost-treachery, that he barely has a spare moment to himself, and certainly not one to spend with another person in any capacity other than business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steeping

**Author's Note:**

> Just writing along with the events of the mini-series, taking an opportunity to explore Hatter's character a bit. And his and Alice's relationship because OH WHOA WHAT AN OTP THEY ARE
> 
> (Written ages ago, but I just now joined AO3 so here you go!)

Hatter has had his fair share of dalliances. He likes women, and for the most part they like him back. The well-dressed patrons of his shop smirk at him when he walks the floor to check business, and if they don’t seem too inebriated, he’ll smile back. He’s even had a tumble or two with dancers from the Hearts Casino, and that’s nothing to sneeze at, considering that the only men they’ll deign to touch are suits.

But he’s never been one for relationships. Which is not so much his nature as it is a – lack of opportunity, as it were.

That is to say, Wonderland doesn’t exactly have an atmosphere that’s conducive to romance. The whole place is warring against itself and Hatter is so busy playing both sides, walking that tight rope of not-quite-but-almost-treachery, that he barely has a spare moment to himself, and certainly not one to spend with another person in any capacity other than business. And shagging is a business. Love is not.

And even when he’s alone, by himself for that rare, sweet moment, he’s still thinking _all the time_ – how is the tea shop doing? Does he have sufficient funds to get more comfits? How did the suits react the last time there was a problem in the shop, did any of them show a sign of noticing that he’s a little less than loyal? How much food can he get to the library within the next week? The Dodo is pressuring him into choosing a side – how does he get the ruddy man off his back?

There is so much going on all the bloody time that Hatter doesn’t even stop to consider what he might be missing.

When Alice tumbles into his world – _the_ Alice, Ratty reminds him, pleased as punch – Hatter thinks she’s just another face, something nice to look at. She’s a pretty thing, her dress sopping and drip-dripping on his floor, cloth clinging to her in a way he must admit he’s not immune to.

But she’s just an oyster, tense and looking for her boyfriend, and isn’t that just par for the course?

So he shoos the Rat off and takes Alice to the Dodo. He tells himself that he’s using her as a distraction, a diversion, a convenient ploy that’s been dropped into his lap to direct Dodo’s attention elsewhere. There’s a not-so-small part of him, though, that’s feeling genuinely altruistic towards the girl. And he’s a bit bemused because that’s not like him – while he’s always been the philanthropic sort (as the refugees in the library can attest), his good will has only ever extended to Wonderlanders. Despite what he said to her, an oyster has never piqued his attention before, no matter how good she might look in wet cotton.

Either way, he does a good deed for the day, and if he reaps a few additional benefits from the deal, who is he to argue?

Then everything goes to hell.

 

Maybe Alice really is _the_ Alice. Hatter has never put much stock into the legend, but it can’t be possible for a normal oyster to cause so much trouble with so little effort. All Alice has to do is show up and everything starts falling apart around her – it’s a good thing Hatter has extensive experience with running away, because he has to use all the skills in his repertoire to keep them alive.

In a quiet moment in the forest, as they attempt to catch their breath (literally and metaphorically) and gather their bearings and all that other twaddle, Hatter realizes that he’s never seen an oyster as they’re supposed to be, before. Maybe it makes sense that Alice is so bold, dynamic – after all, the emotions of the oysters are what get Wonderlanders high.

Alice is extraordinary. She seeps emotion out of her very pores, anxiety and determination and sadness, and Hatter can feel the wisps of all of them. They curl against his skin, intoxicating and beckoning and he deserves a bloody commendation for restraining himself.

He can’t imagine what it’s like to feel so much, all at the same time. He doesn’t know how she sorts herself out, how she can even function. He’s seen what happens to Wonderlanders who get too greedy and take too much tea, mixing dangerous cocktails of lust and hope and innocence and excitement. They either go catatonic or stark raving mad. It happens – on the street, in his shop – more often than he’d like.

Alice is – well, Alice _is_. As it’s been said, Hatter hasn’t had many relationships, but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t loved before. He loves more often than he’d like, really. Or suffers intense like, at least.

He starts falling for Alice, and doesn’t stop. He doesn’t hit that plateau of almost-love that he expects he will, and not even discovering that her boyfriend is _Jack Heart_ puts a stop to it. Maybe he started falling the moment he met her, he doesn’t know. He can’t label it, can’t measure it. All he knows is that it’s growing at an alarming pace, spreading through him until he can feel it in his knees, his toes, his knuckles and fingertips.

As she walks away from him, towards Jack, after that almost-kiss, and Hatter’s chest aches, sharp and keen, he curses himself. Curses the Prince, Alice, all of bloody Wonderland. And then he rides after her.

 

Somehow, miracle of miracles, they make it out alive. They’re alive and they’ve won the war, the Queen is dethroned, the Casino is rubble – Hatter is elated. He’ll have to rebuild his tea shop, but he doesn’t mind because he can finally sell real tea, loose leaves and bags, black and green and oolong and white, Earl grey and vanilla and cinnamon. No more blue-pink-orange drugs that sell drop by drop, no more people overdosing in his lounge, convulsing and yelling. Just sweet aromas, calm hands and full cups, and maybe even some music.

He thinks all this while the crowd is cheering, Alice standing there with the Stone of Wonderland held high in her fist.

And he is elated, truly, until he sees Alice look at the Prince – the King – and he remembers. She’ll marry Jack, become his Queen, and the only thing Hatter will be able to say to her is, “Your majesty.” Or maybe she’ll just leave, and be gone forever. He doesn’t know which would be worse.

The love he’s been steeping in boils over, and he can’t be here anymore. Can’t look at her, knowing that she won’t be his. Maybe that’s ridiculous, soppy and pathetic and the coward’s way, but he just can’t. He slips away (as he always has) quick and quiet.

But word of mouth reaches him (as it always does) before he’s barely gotten anywhere – there’s a procession to the Looking Glass, they’re going to start it back up and send all the oysters home, and Alice, the new Alice of legend, is going to be there. 

So Hatter is a masochist, and he goes. Sneaks through all the back ways of the city, walks through the door as Alice is pressed against Jack, his hands on her back, then her hips. The sight drops Hatter’s shoulders, pulls an unwilling breath out of his chest. He feels winded, and a little bit broken. A slow moment is taken trying to gather himself, and he turns to go. He makes it a step and a half before Alice calls him back.

Their conversation is stiff, stilted. Hatter feels himself babbling a little, and he falls silent, swallowing thickly. When she hugs him, it feels as if something vital in his chest melts, and when she pulls back he has to will himself, muscle by muscle, to let go.

Then she invites him to her world, and she says something that he’s fairly certain has the innuendo to be considered naughty, and a bloody scientist is grabbing her and shoving her into the Looking Glass and he’s left twisting his coat – _her_ coat – in his hands.

He says, “Right then.”

He has affairs to put in order. He walks up to the Prince – no, the _King_ , he’ll remember eventually – and tells him that he’ll be back. He tells the same to Charlie before the knight can accost him.

He returns to the tea shop. Looks around for a while, reminding himself of everything, settling his memories of the place. He talks to Dormouse about the business, future plans and renovations. The necessary paperwork is dealt with (even in a drug-ravaged Wonderland, there is still an inordinate amount of paper pushing to be done). He collects together his clothes, stacks his hats. When everything is done to his satisfaction, it’s been a week. Maybe more. Time has been passing strangely – he can’t really keep track properly, he’s so distracted.

The last thing he packs is Alice’s jacket. He keeps brushing his fingers against it, grounding himself when he starts to feel a bit lost. When he finally tucks it in against his other jackets, his chest hitches slightly. He puts on one of his less ostentatious hats – he knows enough of Alice’s world to know that his usual topper would result in stares – and he goes to the Looking Glass.

The scientists have picked up a new Looking Glass trick, and they send Hatter through so he lands before Alice has. Or rather, before she will. He’s not sure exactly how it works, but it gives him the opportunity to play hero and with that he will not argue.

He has enough time to orient himself, bring his few belongings to Jack’s old apartment, before he is due at the address where he’s been told Alice will arrive. He navigates the city easily enough – it’s not so different from Wonderland, and there’s no worry of falling off anything. He follows his instructions, calls the police, tells them there’s a lost girl in the abandoned building at this street and this avenue, it isn’t structurally sound and she needs to be found quickly. And then he waits.

 

Hatter sees Alice appear before his eyes, and it’s such a relief that when he falls to his knees to gather her into his arms, it’s not entirely a conscious choice. He calls out to the others, he scoops her up, carries her out into the light.

After that it’s a whirlwind of action that Hatter can’t quite keep track of because he’s so focused on Alice. Something involving a hospital (he’s only vaguely familiar with the concept) and a police report that he feels is completely unnecessary and too many people. He meets her mother at some point – Carol, lovely woman – and when he says that he’d like to see Alice when she’s released and home, she smiles and him and says of course, and that he’s a sweetheart, and then she thanks him again and goes to sit with Alice.

And he waits again.

 

When he finally gets the call from Carol that “Alice will be home in an hour, if you’d like to drop by, here’s our address,” his anxiety soars. He goes to their home, can barely contain himself, turning his hat over and over in his hands, because this is uncharted territory and Alice told him to visit but what if she didn’t really mean it?

Carol lets him in with a fond smile, and she calls to Alice and there she is, awake and healthy and unaccountably beautiful. Then she’s in his arms and it’s so much better than before and she’s happy to see him. He draws back to look at her face, her lovely face, and he can feel that love, hovering in his fingertips and toes and clenched in his chest.

He kisses her, and her lips smile against him, and he can feel her emotions lapping against his – I missed you and so glad you’re here and finally.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
